"Ray Kroc will go broke
selling hamburgers for $.15." That comment was made by my father after a family
visit to the first McDonald's restaurant to open nationwide in our hometown of
Des Plaines, Illinois. Although I was only a young boy, I
remember how impressed I had been by a man who
could not only sell hamburgers for $.15 but continue to sell them month after
month, year after year. I watched that restaurant continue to be
successful and as luck would have it, I finally had a chance to meet the man in
person who had won my admiration so many years before. Time had proven my
father dead wrong in his estimation of the founder of the McDonald's empire.
As an adult, I wondered what made the difference between those who succeed and
are remembered and those who are forgotten over time.

Many years later, my
life's journey took me to the City of San Diego, California. I was excited to
learn that Ray Kroc also lived in San Diego, and I could not let the opportunity
to meet the man I had admired for so long go by. Mustering up more courage than
I thought I possessed, I stopped by McDonald's corporate headquarters and asked
to meet Mr. Kroc in person. Gloria Ramirez, Mr. Kroc's assistant whose
responsibility was to screen all visitors and direct them to the appropriate
staff, greeted me cordially. She must have seen how totally rattled I was and
felt some sympathy for me, for she was patient and extremely kind. I was simply
an extremely nervous and ordinary man requesting to meet one of the greatest
corporate giants of our time. After talking with me for a few minutes, she
contacted Bob Tracy, another of Mr. Kroc's trusted staff and he came down to the
lobby and escorted me back to his office where we spoke for another fifteen to
twenty minutes. His important question to me was "What would you say to Mr.
Kroc if you were to meet him?" I recounted the trip to McDonald's first
restaurant and my father's comment on $.15 hamburger sales and how much I had
admired Mr. Kroc over the years. Mr. Tracy said to follow him.

I found myself across
the desk from Ray Kroc, the man himself. He was very gracious and had a warm
smile as I repeated my reasons for wanting to meet him. The rest of the
conversation eludes me, as I was simply overwhelmed that I had the opportunity
to sit and talk with Ray. Later in the week, I wanted to drop off a small gift
in appreciation for the time Ray spent with me. I remembered he loved to smoke
cigars, so I purchased a custom tabletop cigar lighter from a small local
tobacco shop and dropped it off with a thank you note to his front office. I
told Gloria how grateful I was to have met Ray and thanked her. A week later,
Ray sent me a personal letter that encouraged me to "first, be daring and be
different."

From that first meeting,
Ray and I developed an open door friendship. As his health began to fail, I
made a point of stopping by several times a month just to say hello. Over time,
I made mental note of some of Ray's favorite sayings: All money means to me
is pride in accomplishment; As long as you're green, you're growing—as soon as
you're ripe, you start to rot; Creativity is a highfalutin word for the work I
have to do between now and Tuesday; If you work just for money, you'll never
make it, but if you love what you're doing and you always put the customer
first, success will be yours; If you're not a risk taker, you should get the
hell out of business; Luck is a dividend of sweat—the more you sweat, the
luckier you get. You are only as good as the people you hire; and my
favorite, It is easy to have principles when you are rich—the important thing
is to have principles when you are poor.

Ray's character and
strong belief in customer satisfaction erupted at the first home game by the
Padres Baseball team in 1974. Ray was the new owner and ended the game by
grabbing the microphone and announcing over the public address system "I've
never seen such stupid ball playing in my life!" A streaker chose that
particular moment to run naked across the field. "Throw him in jail!" Ray
roared. Ironically, 1974 would be the first season that the Padres did not
finish in the National League West cellar (finishing fifth), and was also the
year that brought with it the promise of an owner willing to step up to the
plate with the team. Ray's number one priority was to provide the best product
for his customers whether they were buying hamburgers or playing baseball. As
only the greatest of men can do, Ray later apologized to the team and the fans
for his impromptu outburst.

On one of my visits to
Ray's office, I took my 11-year old sister with me. It was important to me to
capture that moment with a picture of the three of us. I wanted her to always
remember Ray as my friend, but more importantly, I wanted her to remember him as
an ordinary man who took risks to create an empire. Through our friendship and
long talks, he mentored me without really knowing he was doing it. I think we
all have helped others more than we realized by just taking some time to share
our experiences and life lessons. Twenty years later, I sent that photograph to
her so she could share it with her own 8-year old daughter.

I remember Ray Kroc as a
great visionary, a man of integrity and substance, and a man of dedication to
his customers. It was not his great fortune that kept him in my fondest
memories. Rather, it was the small things that he did, the friendly gesture of
getting to know one of his customers and the sharing of wisdom as a friend that
keeps him forever in my heart and my thoughts. His message was clear--having
the passion to follow one's dreams is what being truly successful is all about.
Do that, he said, and all the wealth and fame will follow. You never really
know how much the smallest effort and kindness can affect others for life.